Who Taught You to Live Like That
by SummerLove16
Summary: Her best friends have high-profile husbands and undeniably hot, hockey playing fiancees. Bella has a mediocre booty call and the bad habit of sleeping with the most powerful men in Washington. When she collides with the one and only Edward Cullen, will sparks fly? Or will the inferno consume them both? EdwardxBella (eventually).
1. Booty-calls and Bad Habits

**So…this was an idea that just kept running around and around my head. I even started writing it on my phone. Let me know what you think! Should I continue? More lemons? (Although this chapter doesn't feature one, the next one could). Different characters? Let me hear your ideas!**

…**..**

She crossed her legs, shifting the lacy tops of her stockings against her A-line skirt. Pearls rested at her throat, above her silk blouse, first two buttons undone. A tight, black blazer completed the look, her mother's watch on her left wrist, just slightly too big. It was the one thing she had brought to Washington from her old life.

Like her mother, Isabella Swan had lived too large for the small town she'd been born into. Her father's decision to send her to boarding school-all girl's, private school, smack in the middle of Manhattan-had probably been the only good decision Charlie had ever made when it came to the women in his life, aside from letting them go. She had lived large there, too, making friends with the most beautiful, wealthy girls in the city, indulging in late-night drinks and all night parties, and she had still gotten in to Yale on a fill ride scholarship.

All that remained now from her high school years were her two best friends, Rosalie Cullen and Alice Hale, both strikingly beautiful, both from aristocratic Upper East Side families, and both with more money than they could spend in a lifetime.  
Unfortunately, the days of all night parties and late night drinks had slowly passed behind them. Alice had married Jasper Hale, the infamous Texan Senator, with his slow, twangy drawl and blonde curls. They were far from boring, but Alice had a far more public reputation to maintain now. Rosalie had fallen hard for Emmett McCartey, the high scoring center of the Washington Capitals, and although they weren't married-yet-the tabloids were having a field day with engagement rumors.

So, Alice had Jasper, Rosalie had Emmett, and Bella...well, Bella had Jacob, her mediocre booty call (although he would have married her in a heartbeat, if she'd only ask), and the bad habit of sleeping with very wealthy, very powerful men.

Sipping her scotch, neat, Bella pondered her sorely lacking love life. She was alone at the bar, like she so often found herself these days, but being on her own had never bothered Bella. In her teens, she had blushed, melting back into the wallpaper when forced to face social situations alone, but as she'd gotten older, she'd learned to work her prim smile, neat figure, and good looks, and now, almost preferred it. She worked better alone.

As she laid her black Amex card down on the bar to pay for her scotch—fighting the eye roll that threatened at the bartender's shocked (and slightly worried) expression—Bella felt eyes boring into her back. Rather than turn, she simply smirked at the bartender, waiting as he processed her card. Fresh out of high school, Bella had solved her spending habits with a quick marriage and quicker divorce to James Samuelson, a plastic surgeon from Seattle who had never quite known what hit him. Five years later, she was the holder of the infamous black Amex card, a junior partner in New York's finest law firm, and had a net worth of almost thirty million dollars.

As the bartender handed her card back, Bella turned, elegant, with self-taught grace (the reason she almost never exceeded two drinks), and walked across the hardwood floor to the washroom. As she walked, she met the eyes that had been staring into her back. Senator Michael Newton's beady, semi-glassed eyes met hers, and Bella smothered the look of disgust and displeasure that threatened. She offered the barest of just-socially-acceptable smiles, always proper, but didn't offer more. Michael Newton had been eyeing her since the day he'd first set foot on the Hill, and couldn't seem to understand that Bella was never going to lower her standards.

In the washroom, Bella powdered her nose, shifting in front of the mirror and adjusting the clasp on her pearls. She tried to quell the rising disappointment that had flourished under Senator Newton's gaze. Bella enjoyed sex, but she enjoyed quality sex, and often, powerful, womanizing men were the best equipped to offer that. Which was precisely why she had refused Michael Newton time and time again. She worried her lip, a habit from childhood, and debated whether or not she should give in and call Jacob—another habit from childhood. Jacob was good looking, had money, and certainly knew how to satisfy her (Lord knew he had enough practice), but he lacked the dangerous assurance and smoothness of a man born and raised in money.

With a sigh, Bella straightened her already perfect hair, and walked out of the bathroom. Ambient light gave her such a lovely glow, and the hardwood floors clicking beneath her heels always gave her a rush, but Bella felt that the night had ended when Michael Newton had started eyeing up her pert ass.

As she headed out the door into the characteristic Washington drizzle, dialing Jacob's number as she walked, Bella stumbled uncharacteristically, her heel catching in a crack in the flooring, and she tumbled into a pair of strangely familiar arms.

"Isabella. I wasn't expecting to see you here tonight."

That voice. Smooth as silk, and Bella fought to keep her schoolgirl blush at bay as she straightened, suddenly perfumed in the scent of expensive cologne and musk from a hard day's work. Adjusting her blazer, she met the gaze of Rosalie's father, Carlisle Cullen. His blue eyes, blonde hair, rock hard body and the dangerous half smile he was currently giving her were the stuff of her fantasies many times over, but Rosalie had warned them repeatedly as teens the punishment for even thinking about her father that way—and the threat of being shaved bald had served to deter both Bella and Alice throughout high school. But now…Bella couldn't bring herself to think of a single reason why she shouldn't pursue this. Offering her hand to the good doctor,

"Carlisle. My apologies, I'm usually not that clumsy."

Carlisle laughed, his eyes sparkling,

"Could I interest you in a late night dinner?"

Bella smiled demurely, her night suddenly improving vastly,

"You certainly can. Angelina's? I've heard their ravioli is impeccable."

"As is your taste, Isabella. Angelina's it is."

Carlisle offered his arm, leading her to his car, where the driver opened the door for them and Bella scooted in, allowing just the briefest hint of stocking to show as she settled in the seat, watching with satisfaction as Carlisle's eyes darkened just the briefest hint.

Yes, this night had certainly improved.

…

**And there we have it, folks! I know, I know, it's not Bella x Edward just yet…but it's a hard habit to break! Let me know what you thought/are thinking! Ideas, constructive criticism and thoughts are always welcome.**

**3**


	2. Backseats and Brunches

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! For the record, Carlisle and Edward are not going to be related in this story. Otherwise, Bella would already know him—Rosalie is her best friend, after all. As far as Bella sleeping with Carlisle…well, read on!**

...

"How are things at the hospital, Carlisle?"

Bella sipped her wine—a bitingly dry merlot—and carefully lifted a bite of the ravioli to her mouth. Carlisle smiled,

"Good. Trials for my diabetes research are in the final stage of approval."

They reached for the bread at the same moment, and Bella allowed her fingertips to linger on Carlisle's for the briefest of moments before she pulled away.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He seemed startled when she spoke, seemingly having lost his train of thought for the briefest of moments before he glanced up at her,

"And at the firm? I trust Caius isn't working you too hard?"

Bella laughed graciously at the mention of Carlisle's college friend,

"Of course not. I'm should be closing the McDermott Corporation case next week."

Carlisle nodded, pausing with his hand against his wine glass,

"Fairly high profile tax evasion, no?"

Bella smiled. She had him hook, line and sinker.

"Why Carlisle, are you keeping tabs on my career?"

Carlisle laughed, his mouth quirking into a wry smirk,

"I like to know what's going on in the law world. We cross paths at so many galas."

Bella nodded, signalling the waiter for the cheque. Carlisle laid his credit card on the table without preamble. Bella let him. It wasn't as if money mattered to either of them. They stood, Carlisle helping Bella into her coat, his fingers resting a moment too long against her pronounced collar bones.

The maitre de nodded his thanks to them both,

"A pleasure as always, Mr. Cullen. Please come again."

Carlisle held the door for her, his hand gentle on her lower back as they exited the restaurant,

"Thank you for a lovely dinner, Isabella."

Bella's lips quirked into a half smile, the lace of her stockings visible as she got into the car, just a hint of her creamy skin peeking through.

"Could I interest you in dessert, Carlisle?"

There was no question of what dessert would be. Carlisle's eyes were dark, the light blue a shade just off navy.

Suddenly predatory, he smiled down at Bella, his tongue peeking out and running slick across his lower lip, and Bella felt her panties dampen with the promises his look held, every fantasy she'd ever had about the good doctor swirling through her head at the speed of light.

"Take the long way home, Riley."

Sex in the back of the limo. Kinky. Bella bit her lip, looking up at Carlisle with doe eyes, loving that she never would have taken him for the type, and loving even more that he had proven her wrong. Bella gave a shuddering moan of satisfaction as Carlisle bit down against her collarbone, arching up into his solid body as pain sparked through her, followed immediately by pleasure as his tongue soothed the sting. Carlisle's hands—the strong, capable hands she had imagined countless times late at night—were on her suddenly, powerful, predatory, one on her blazer, pulling, the buttons on her blouse straining to contain her black, lacy lingerie, the other sliding carefully up her thigh, tracing over the lace edging of her stocking, tracing against bare skin. Bella felt heat flash through her, accompanied by a lazy, slow burning satisfaction that her evening had turned out the way she had wanted. This was the reason she went out alone. The reason she had refused Michael Newton time and time again.

…

"So, anyways, this bitch, Leah—do you remember her, Bells? She graduated two years after us, always throwing herself at the King George upperclassmen—she was all over Emmett at the dinner. I've never seen anything like it. I phoned her mother to come pick her up after she passed out. And then I called the press."

Rosalie popped a piece of cantaloupe into her mouth, rolling her eyes. She had always been the most vindictive of the three, needing instant gratification when she deemed someone in need of a lesson. The copy of the Washington News that she held in her hand, Leah's semi-conscious, highly unflattering photo splashed across the gossip column was proof that Rosalie Cullen was not a woman to be taken lightly. Alice snickered,

"She was training for sports journalism, no?"

Rosalie nodded,

"Yes. But you can hardly be a sports journalist if you're sleeping with the players."

Bella and Alice nodded in agreement. Leah's punishment had been swift, but certainly not uncalled for, and she would recover if she worked for it.

"I've been thinking it's almost time to take a trip to New York. The spring lines should just be coming out."

Alice smiled, surveying the table, her excitement apparent. Bella nodded, willing to submit to Alice's team of personal shoppers and personal taste the four times a year that it took for her to look as good as Alice insisted she look. Rosalie nodded,

"I think the Caps are playing the Rangers next weekend. We could rent the suite in the Four Seasons? Make it a girls weekend? I do have to be at the game on Friday night, but other than that, I'm all yours, Allie."

Alice grinned,

"Good. We can get Emmett and Jasper fitted for new suits while we're there."

All attention was suddenly focussed on Bella at the mention of Rosalie's and Alice's significant others. Bella took a bite of her omelette, buying time under the stare of her best friends,

"What about you, Bella?"

"Mhmm. You weren't answering your phone last night, what—or should I say who—were you doing?"

Bella appeared nonchalant, plastering an innocent look on her face,

"Well, I was having drinks at the Waldorf, and I ran into Senator Newton. Again."

She and Alice exchanged an eye-roll at Michael Newton's tendency to ogle them both. While Bella was classically beautiful tall, with long limbs and creamy skin, balanced by her flowing hair, Alice was a tiny, almost exotic beauty, accentuated by her clothing, which featured bright colours and bold patterns. Rosalie looked as if she had stepped out of a fantasy, all blonde hair and blue eyes, but with a wicked sense of humor and unforgiving view of the world.

"And after?"  
Rosalie eyed her suspiciously, and Bella wondered if she had spoken to her father. Regardless, Carlisle was hardly the type to kiss and tell.

"I had dinner with Carlisle."

"Just dinner?"

Rosalie's gaze was suspicious as she eyed Bella. Bella nodded, taking a bite of her toast,

"Of course, Rose. We cross paths at so many galas, it would have been rude to refuse."

Rosalie seemed placated, although Bella suspected that Alice knew. She was scarily intuitive, and strangely silent on the matter.

"Speaking of galas, are we all attending the Save the Children's benefit?"

Alice questioned, surveying the table again. Rosalie nodded,

"Emmett and I will be there."

Bella nodded,

"I'll be there. With Jacob."

She sighed as her best friends snickered. Jacob had been a running joke between them since the age of about fifteen. The feeling of satisfaction she had had after being thoroughly fucked by Carlisle in the backseat of the limo was beginning to fade, tendrils of want beginning to spiral again. If the day continued the way it was going, she had no doubt she would be back at the Waldorf for drinks again that night.


	3. Courtrooms and Phone Calls

**Many people have commented that Bella is a bitch, etc. That's certainly true! There are two directions that this story can take…one is heartwarming, in which Bella will end up very much reformed. The other is to have things continue with Bella the way she is. I'm going to leave it to you to decide, so please do review! Let me know what you want! I love hearing from you, and this story has a vague direction, but your ideas are always welcome. **

…

"You did the nasty with Daddy C, didn't you?"

Alice's annoyingly perky voice sounded tinny through the speaker as Bella walked down the street, wincing as her black coffee burned her lips. Her heels clicked satisfyingly against the sidewalk, people automatically moving out of her way, staring in her wake. It was almost ten o'clock, and Bella was already on her third cup of coffee. Despite having made easy millions from her divorce followed by lucky stock market breaks, she was driven. Not for the sake of money, but for the sake of the challenge. The McDermott case was about to close, and the files for Clearwater Oil's illegal drilling activity off the coast of Costa Rica in protected waters had just landed on Caius's desk. Bella wanted to be the lead prosecutor on that case, challenging the forces of environmental groups and even the Costa Rican government for the first time in her career.

"Perhaps."

She smirked as Alice gave her predictable squeal,

"You totally did! Bella. How was he?"

Bella laughed out loud,

"I don't kiss and tell, Allie."

Alice groaned,

"Come ON. We've only been fantasizing about the good doctor since seventh grade…"

"I'll see you in New York, Al. I'm touching down around ten."

"Leaving me alone with Rosalie and the hockey game? Thanks a lot, Bells."

Bella grinned in spite of herself as she hung up, swiping her key card to enter the Volturi Law firm. Large, arching windows, complete with gargoyles and a Wall Street address, and a fountain in the centre of the lobby, just because Caius had felt it appropriate.

"Ms. Swan."

Jane nodded at her from the reception desk, and Bella smiled frostily as she made her way into the elevator. Jane had never been her favourite person—there had been one too many Christmas parties where Jane had been far too drunk for public consumption, and Bella simply didn't have the tolerance for improper behaviour in low-ranking staff. She had maintained her position only by virtue of the fact that Caius was her uncle.

Bella stepped off the elevator, silence falling across the cubicles as she made her way to her office. Power suited her, and people stopped to stare as she entered almost everywhere.

"The files you requested are on your desk."

Bella's long-time assistant, Angela Weber smiled at her as she unlocked her office door.

"Thank you, Angela. Has Caius been in yet today?"

Angela shook her head, returning to her computer. Bella loved Angela, because she was organized, efficient, and happy exactly where she was. Bella didn't have to worry that she was here only to advance her own career—Angela was more interested in advancing her relationship with her policeman boyfriend Ben than her career at Volturi Law, and Bella suspected that once they were married, she would lose Angela to motherhood.

Settling at her desk, Bella sifted through the files Angela had left. She'd been up since five, drafting her closing arguments for the court. Her long, dark hair was up in a French twist, her suit impeccably pressed, her makeup flawless. Even for Bella, she looked good, and she knew it. Packing the files carefully into her briefcase next to her notes, Bella closed the door behind her and headed for the courthouse.

…..

The McDermott case had charged a small-scale technology company with large scale tax evasion. Facing off against the panel of IRS lawyers had been intimidating at first, but Bella had quickly realized what the men (because high power law careers were hopelessly biased in favour of men) on the team lacked: drive. And she had the drive.

Standing in front of judge and jury, Bella felt perfectly comfortable, even after listening to the damning closing remarks of the head of the IRS team. Her place presenting the closing remarks of this case had been unexpected—she was not the head of the Volturi team on this case—but she was ambitious, and she could see from the shocked looks on the faces of the IRS lawyers that it had been a good choice.

"…And that, your Honour, is why I would ask the court to find McDermott and Co. not guilty."

She smiled frostily at the opposition, but it was apparent from the looks on their faces that the case was already over, and that the Volturi firm had once again delivered. She was mildly surprised that their reputation hadn't preceded them.

Bella walked out of the courthouse and into the blinding sun, ignoring the throngs of reporters that swarmed her,

"No comment."

She pushed her oversized, dark sunglasses over her eyes, heading down the steps and into the air conditioned car. Her bag was already in the back seat. As they pulled away from the courthouse, Bella pulled the pins out of her hair, letting it cascade down around her shoulders in loose waves, sighing in satisfaction at another successful day. Sometimes she questioned whether it was the sex she enjoyed so much with her conquests, or the power.

…

"I heard y'all had a very successful day at the office."

Jasper grinned at Bella from his seat next to Alice, his twangy, southern drawl making her smile as she sipped her gin and tonic. A woman's drink, one that she drank only in the presence of Alice and Rosalie.

"Yes. McDermott and Co. will live to see another day in the market."

He smirked,

"And you're sure that's a good thing?"

Bella laughed, allowing the genuine laughter and appreciation for Jasper to bubble up,

"Of course not. But I'm just doing the job I was hired to do."

Jasper nodded, loosening his tie. The private plane was more than half way to Manhattan island, Alice having opted to take the flight with Bella, rather than attend the hockey game with Rosalie. Rosalie was always anxious at the games, and she certainly had her claws out when women threw themselves at Emmett. All in all, it was hardly a pleasant experience to attend a game with her—something they had both learned the hard way. Alice smiled, tucking an errant curl behind Jasper's ear before turning her megawhatt grin on Bella and holding up her phone,

"Caps won."

She didn't have to say more. When the Washington Capitals won, there was always an after-party. Especially when they played in cities with as much night life as New York. Bella grinned. She liked hockey players just fine. And, an added bonus, Rosalie would be in an exceptional mood—Emmett had scored twice.

The plane touched down in New York at 10:15pm, the limo pulling up alongside them on the tarmac. Bella straightened her dress, stepping down the stairs behind Alice. Her phone buzzed, unexpectedly, the Volturi Law identification tag blinking across the screen,

"Isabella Swan."

It was Caius.

"Bella, I have some bad news…"

…..

**So. Bella good, Bella bad? Your call. Let me know! And also, let me know if I should even continue, yeah? Edward will be introduced in the next chapter. **


	4. Costa Rica and Call Outs

**To everyone who reviewed: Thank you. You are the inspiration that keeps me writing. I love to hear your thoughts, ideas and frustrations…like no play by play of kinky Daddy Cullen in the back of the limo. Maybe that will come in a later chapter. ****  
Like always, let me know what you think!**

…

Bella felt her stomach clench at Caius's abrupt greeting, her hand gripping her phone tighter, although her face remained practiced and impassive,

"What is it, Caius?"

Caius sighed,

"Where are you?"

Bella bit back a snarl at Caius's lack of forwardness, but answered through gritted teeth. Alice seemed to recognize that something was wrong, casting a worried glance to Bella from her seat next to Jasper.

"I'm in the air on my way to New York."

She could hear Caius typing in the background,

"Perfect. Isabella, the Costa Rican Environmental Protection Agency has launched a full-scale protest lawsuit against Clearwater Oil. I need someone on the ground there."

Bella's heart dropped into her stomach, knowing exactly what Caius was implying even as she asked,

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"Isabella…you're my brightest associate. I need you there. This shit storm is going to get ugly fast, and it's not going to blow over as easily as we thought. I need someone there who knows what the hell they're doing."

"Seriously? Some hippie-dippie, granola group has launched a lawsuit, and that warrants flying your 'brightest associate' out of the country?"

Bella bit down on her full bottom lip, tasting the tang of blood through the lipstick. She never lost control like this. Never talked back to a superior. Was always calm and rational, presenting her ideas in a calm, rational way. Alice's tiny hand, coming to rest gently against her thigh, startled her back to reality.

"Caius? Fine. I'll do it. But I will be the lead prosecutor. I will make all and every executive decision, and I get to choose my team for the hearings. And you owe me. If we win, I get partnership."

She could feel Caius's relief over the phone,

"Absolutely. Your ticket is booked. You leave New York in 12 hours, Isabella. I'll have Jane send the information to your inbox. And Isabella? Don't underestimate the hippies."

Bella hung up without saying goodbye, fighting the juvenile urge to hurl her smartphone against the wall of the jet. Jasper looked on quizzically as Alice gently brushed a strand of hair off her face,

"What is it, Bells?"

Bella grimaced, motioning the flight attendant for another drink. What didn't Caius understand? Washington was her home. New York was her playground. The whole damn Eastern Seaboard knew who she was, and she wasn't sure she was ready to give up that power.

"That was Caius. I'm…going to Costa Rica."

Alice looked bewildered, and Jasper arched a questioning eyebrow, both encouraging her to elaborate. Bella took a deep breath,

"I'm going to Costa Rica on the Clearwater Oil case. I leave in twelve hours. There's been some kind of protest lawsuit launched against them by some environmental group."

"Well God damn. The granola types are just causin' trouble everywhere."

Jasper drawled, winking at her, and Bella giggled, semi-hysterical laughter bubbling up. Alice rolled her eyes,

"So, why do you have to go?"

Bella half shrugged one shoulder,

"I guess these particular granola groupies are a force to be reckoned with, or so says Caius."

Alice sighed,

"Well, I guess that only means one thing, Bells."

"Skype until I'm safely Stateside again?"

Alice giggled,

"No. We party like it's 2006 for the twelve hours before you leave."

….

Rosalie was dressed in what amounted to the shortest, tightest, hottest dress Alice had ever chosen for her, in lipstick red. Bella, true to form, had her hair pulled up in a tight, slick ponytail, her dress form fitting with strappy cutouts in the back, but still a classic black. Alice had on a meringue and fuchsia halter dress that would have been immature or even casual on anyone but her. 5" stilettos and they were out the door, Jasper and Emmett lost somewhere long before the first club. Six shots of golden tequila into the evening, Bella was starting to feel a little dizzy.

"Bells…was he good?"

Alice looked up at her imploringly, batting her huge, blue eyes at Bella. Bella smirked, swaying drunkenly with the music,

"Allie, I can't tell you. You'll have to try it out for yourself!"

"Try who out?"

Rosalie returned to their table with a round of margaritas, lime for herself and Bella, strawberry for Alice,

"Big Daddy C."

Alice murmured dreamily, not bothering to turn to see who she was speaking to. Rosalie turned to Bella with flashing, inebriated eyes,

"Big Daddy C, Isabella? As in my father?"

Bella shook her head, sucking on a slice of lime to buy time, but Alice was too inebriated to even backpedal, nodding drunkenly to Rosalie.

"You fucked my father?"

Rosalie had one hand on the strap of Bella's dress, the other clenching the table with barely restrained fury.

"It's okay, Rosie. I'm just trying to find out how he was."

"Alice."

Bella gritted out, glaring down at her tiny friend who seemed not to realize how serious the situation was,

"Stop talking."

"You fucking whore."

Rosalie slammed her hand down on the table, pushing Bella just the tiniest bit. Bella stumbled backwards, taken completely by surprise,

"Excuse me?"

Rosalie was in her face almost immediately,

"I put up with your sick social games, your fucking and chucking of Washington's most powerful…Fuck, Bella, I have been there for you through thick and thin. But to fuck and chuck my FATHER? That's too far."

Bella shook her head,

"I didn't mean to—"

"DIDN'T MEAN TO? Are you fucking kidding me? Close your fucking legs, woman. Have some self respect."

Bella pulled herself up to her full height, pushing Rosalie back,

"Self respect? Please. I'm a grown woman, Rosalie. I hardly need YOU to dictate who I sleep with."

"No, you need a motherfucking babysitter, Isabella. You're a fucking train wreck, sleeping with whoever comes along just for kicks. Get out of here. Go home, go back to Seattle or whatever hick town you come from, where it's so inbred it's socially acceptable to sleep with other peoples daddy's."

There was a horrifying, stagnant moment of silence, Bella and Rosalie sizing each other up as enemies instead of friends, before Alice staggered to her feet, turning an odd shade somewhere between gray and green,

"Guys, I don't feel so good…"

Rosalie put one arm around her tiny shoulders, guiding her down the hallway towards the club bathroom, pushing forcefully past Bella.

Bella arrived alone at JFK International.

….

**What did you think? Let me know. **


	5. Flights and Foreign Countries

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Once again, Edward and Carlisle are NOT RELATED in this story. Thus, Bella has not slept with Edward's dad. Because, you know, ick. ;)**

**And to those of you who find sleeping with her best friend's dad to be a hideous breaking of trust…well, that's kind of who Bella is at this point in her life. She has it all, and she's bored. She causes trouble just because she can, and it's not personal to Rosalie (although possibly to sexy Daddy Cullen. ;)). **

**Let me know what you think of this one!**

…

The flight was long, and Bella couldn't sleep.

For the first time since high school, she didn't have the backing of her powerful, beautiful, socially graceful best friends. For the first time since high school, she feared retaliation from Rosalie. There was no telling what Rose would do in her anger.

But Carlisle…

He'd lived up to every fantasy and then some.

_ "Spread your legs, Isabella."_

_Carlisle's mouth was hot against the fabric of her panties, and Bella shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin as he traced his tongue along her inner thigh, taking his sweet time. _

_Teasing her. _

_Bella arched upwards, unused to being denied what she wanted, but Carlisle's hands were firm against her hips, holding her down as his fingers played over her sex,_

_ "No, Isabella. You wait for me."_

_Bella moaned, goosebumps rising afresh at the gravel and heat in his tone. His nimble, healing fingers ripped her panties—and who would have expected that roughness from the good doctor?—holding her down as his tongue was suddenly sharp against her slit, his fingers sliding home and curling, his knowledgeable touch driving her to the brink, pausing for the briefest of moments just before she slipped over, making her orgasm that much more intense as it washed over her, pulling her higher._

_He was inside her before she had fully come down, and although the oral had been mind-blowing, the sex was better. _

_Bella was in heaven, and the only conscious thought she could muster was that she would have to do this again. _

_Carlisle was that good._

Bella shifted sharply in her seat, pressing her legs together. She pushed her ear-buds into her ears, trying not to replay the things Rosalie had said to her in the club.

A train wreck.

A whore.

Is that honestly what Rosalie thought of her these days? If she hadn't been so fucking _mean _about it, Bella might have called her while they were in the air. Called to apologize, to talk it out before she landed in the middle of _fucking no where. _

The only person Bella was more angry at was Caius, for sending her on this goose chase in the first place.

Hippies. Love and peace. Mother earth loves you.

Fuck.

Why couldn't they just leave well enough alone, and let business do its thing? Was ruining the economy so that everyone had to engage in commune living really that important?

Bella rolled over to face the window, staring out into the stars. How long had it been since she'd seen the stars? She couldn't even remember.

"Can I get you something to drink, ma'am?"

The smooth, velvety voice of the flight attendant jolted Bella from her thoughts, and she pulled one ear bud out, turning to order a glass of wine. For a half second, she considered fucking the flight attendant—he was good looking enough, and possibly her last taste of flesh that had even seen beautiful New York—but Rosalie's voice echoed in her head, and Bella kept her voice tightly reigned in, ignoring his smile as he served her wine.

It was seven am New York time, and Bella hadn't slept at all. They were three hours from touching down in Costa Rica, and she hadn't even closed her eyes. Bella reached up and hit the flight attendant call button.

Almost instantaneously, the good looking flight attendant appeared at her side.

"Yes, ma'am? What can I do for you?"

Bella smiled,

"You can get me a zolpidem."

She murmured, naming the all-too familiar prescription sleep aid. There was no formality, no pleasantry or social grace, and Bella was horrified to hear the edge in her voice, brought on by hours of stress and lack of sleep. The flight attendant smiled patiently,

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we can't provide our customers with prescription drugs."

Bella leaned across the empty seat next to her, getting in close to the flight attendant. His dark, hazel eyes widened in surprise, and she was pleasantly surprised when his breath hitched just the tiniest bit at her closeness, her fingers lifting his name tag so she could read his name,

"Listen…Alec. I don't want any trouble here. I'm a frequent flier, and I fly exclusively with your airline. I make six million dollars a year, and I represent a thirty-thousand dollar contract for your airline. Now, I suggest you get me that zolpidem, or I will be forced to reconsider my decision."

The flight attendant blinked, taken aback, but shuffled off to do her bidding. Bella leaned back in her seat, wishing she had thought to buy a magazine before she had gotten on the jet. Anything to pass the time.

"Ma'am?"

The flight attendant's voice was hesitant as he appeared at her side, pills in hand. Bella took them, along with the glass of water he offered, and smiled up at him.

"Thank you, Alec. I will be writing your supervisors with utmost compliments. I won't be needing anything else."

He nodded, looking bewildered as to what, exactly, had just taken place. Bella firmly believed in paying people back—good or bad—and those who served her well were paid back ten fold. Alec would undoubtedly be promoted.

Bella's eyes fluttered shut, almost against her will, her over-active mind finally forced to shut down as the pills kicked in. Her dreams were restless, as they always were when she elected to take sleep aids, images of Carlisle and Rosalie blurring behind her eyelids, Alice appearing to look bewildered as Jasper smirked, catching Bella off-guard with a joke she didn't get.

These strange images blurred behind her eyes, making her stomach ache, until an unfamiliar voice calling her name brought her unwillingly back to consciousness.

"Ms. Swan!"

Alec stood back as two of the other flight attendants shook Bella awake. With a start, she jolted awake, brushing their hands off and sitting up. The effects of the sleeping pills were still strong, and Bella struggled to register what was going on around her,

"Wha—where are we?"

To her horror, her words sounded exhausted, and slightly slurred. Alec smiled, stepping forward,

"Coto 47 airport, ma'am. Welcome to Costa Rica."

Bella scrubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, trying not to think about what it was doing to her mascara. With a sigh, she stood, only wobbling slightly, gathering her purse and marching, in a way she hoped was somewhat prim and true to form, off the aircraft.

Off the aircraft and onto tarmac.

She hissed in irritation through her teeth as the heavy, tropical air hit her, making her skin instantly dew, her hair frizz. Her heels caught in the cracks in the tarmac, impossible to see in the darkness of the time change. It was almost 5 am in Costa Rica.

Bella's head swirled and she gritted her teeth.

Hadn't Caius thought to send someone?

Pulling out her phone and drafting a truly nasty, out of character e-mail to Jane (cc-ed to Caius), reprimanding her for not having someone here to meet her, Bella hailed a cab.

"Cuál es su dirección, señora?"

With a tight smile, Bella repeated the address Caius had sent to her inbox. The cabbie looked surprised—shocked, actually—but nodded. He seemed to want to question, but Bella's lack of Spanish didn't allow for that.

They had long passed out of the city lights when the sun began to rise. Bella was beginning to wonder where they were going—and whether she should be placing an international call regarding her safety—when the cabbie pulled to a sudden stop in front of what looked like a homeless shelter, surrounded by tents.

"Estamos aquí, señora."

Bella shook her head,

"No, sir. There must be some mistake, shouldn't you be taking me to a hotel? Uno hotel…o?"

The cabbie shook his head,

"No. Uno quarto zero Calle Esperenza, si?"

Bella double checked the address in her almost dead phone, nodding with an increasing sense of dread,

"Si."

The man nodded, hopping out to open the door for her, holding out his hand and taking almost all of her American dollars before waving cheerfully and driving off into the sunrise.

Bella fought the urge to call Caius, to stomp her $400 heeled foot, to sit down and cry. With a sigh, she stomped towards the ramshackle building, pulling out her smart phone as she walked, typing to Caius,

_Call me ASAP. Emergency._

It was because she was typing and not looking where she was going that she walked smack into the plaid shirted, shaggy haired, bare footed bum who was hanging laundry out on the clothesline in the early morning sun. She stumbled, her heel catching in the grass for what felt like the millionth time that morning, still a little off-kilter from the sleeping pills.

The bum caught her with surprising strength before she hit the ground, and she was caught completely off-guard by the brilliant green of his eyes.

"Slow down there, New York. Where ya headed?"

Bella struggled out of his arms, trying to feel grateful that he had saved her, rather than repulsed by the fact that he had a beard and looked as if he hadn't brushed his hair in weeks. Or maybe it was sex hair…

"I'm walking to that building to try to figure out how the _hell _I ended up in this shit hole."

Bella grimaced, straightening her skirt, wishing absently she'd thought to bring a hair tie with her for her frizzing hair. The bum laughed good naturedly,

"I think the cabbie dropped you off, love. What's your name?"

Bella sighed, years of manners and formal situations taking over, forcing her to extend her perfectly moisturized, perfectly manicured hand to the bum, despite the fact that everything in her was screaming at her not to,

"Isabella Swan. Head attorney for Clearwater Oil Inc."

Her voice was harsh, her words little below a snarl as she turned to keep walking. The past twenty-four hours had not been kind to her, and now the sun was starting to beat down on her. The bum called after her, his voice soft against the gentle breeze that had arrived with the sunrise,

"Edward Masen. Head of the Costa Rican Environmental Protection Agency. I launched the lawsuit."

….

**Thoughts on Edward? Was he what you expected? **

**Let me know what you thought!**


	6. Tofu and Thongs

**Aight, y'all. I've been away for a while…summer and all. But I'm back. So let me know what you think of this one! **

**Also, love the reviews. I'm also a proud "hippie". Nice to know I don't stand alone.**

…**..**

A dull buzzing sound echoed in Bella's dream, intermingling with Rosalie's furious face. She was dimly aware that she was too hot—far too hot, hot enough that there was potential for sweat. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, Bella tried her best to forget the nightmare that had plagued her—the horrid plane ride, the sleeping pills, the heat, the hippies and the bum.

Better know as Edward Cullen.

Bella jolted into consciousness with a start.

It hadn't been a nightmare.

"Fuck me."

The buzzing was, in fact, the fan, whirling dizzily overhead and appearing to do nothing besides create noise. Hissed through gritted teeth, as Bella pulled herself up off the cot that barely passed as a bed. It was so damn hot here. Her hair was frizzing in the humidity. She had no clean clothes, her blouse sticking to her skin and her wrinkled pencil skirt riding up her thighs as she hauled herself up.

Her head lurched as if she had been drinking.

Which, come to think of it, she had. Followed by sleeping pills. Christ, she was getting too old for this.

Perching gingerly on the edge of the bed, wishing like hell she had a bottle of almost anything to kill the pain in her head, Bella dialed Caius.

He answered on the third ring.

"Isabella. I trust you're settling in alright?"

"What the fuck is this, Caius? No hotel? I didn't even _pack. _ I assumed that I would be able to get _basic consumer goods _here."

Bella snarled into the phone. Caius sighed,

"I know. But I need you where the action is. That camp is the main base of the CREPA, although anyone can stay there. It's a great in. Who knows, maybe you'll be able to convince them to drop the suit. I'll ship you whatever you need. It should be there tomorrow if you let me know now."

"Right. Great. I'll get right on that."

Her words were dripping in sarcasm and irritation. There was a pause on the other end, before Caius spoke again.

"I am sorry, Isabella. Really. If you weren't my brightest, I never would have put you there. Have you seen today's paper?"

Bella felt her stomach tighten uncomfortably, but forced her tone to remain even,

"How could I have seen today's paper? I'm in the middle of butt-fuck no where hippie land."

Caius laughed, but there was an edge to it, and Bella knew she had pushed him as far as he could be pushed. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she sighed,

"I'm sorry, Caius. It's been a bit of a roller coaster."

"It's alright, Isabella. Do your worst, send me a list, and in the meantime, isn't there some communal pile of clothes you could pull something from?"

Bella laughed, but her brain sparked back to the clothesline Edward had been hanging clothes on.

"Thanks, Caius. I'll text my list."

"You're welcome, Isabella. You'd better check that paper."

Bella stumbled from the bed, tossing her phone somewhere into the heap of sheets behind her, staggering out the door and into heat even more oppressive than it had been in her tiny, dingy room.

Apparently the fan was doing something more than create noise.

Bella winced as her back tensed suddenly, every muscle in her body twinging with pain. She hobbled down the hallway, unused to being graceless, but having given up on the façade.

The sun was high in the sky, blinding and harsh against Bella's creamy complexion. There was no one else around.

Maybe the hippies took afternoon naps.

Snickering to herself, Bella yanked a pair of black, women's cargo pants off the clothesline. She followed the pants with a beige tank top that was one size too small, but the closest anything would come to fitting her.

Having no shoes besides the five inch Prada pumps she'd stepped off the plane in, Bella went barefoot.

She couldn't even remember the last time her bare feet had touched dirt.

Unlike the yard, the cafeteria was not empty.

Dirty looking hippie-like people were sitting at and on almost every table, draped across the wood, more fans going full bore above them. The windows were open, sunlight streaming in on the already worn tables.

There was a buffet, filled with steaming trays of food, and Bella's mouth watered. When was the last time she had eaten? Before she left New York, certainly. Possibly even before she left Washington.

Bella piled a plate high with strange looking food. Some kind of scrambled eggs, vegetable rolls of some sort, baked beans…fruit juice. Bella grabbed two glasses of juice, hoping it might help the aches in her body—or at very least, subside the pounding in her head.

She sat alone at an empty table.

She could feel eyes on her, different from the envious stares she was used to. Bella struggled not to blush, cursing Caius for sending her here in the first place. It had been many years since she had felt truly uncomfortable in a social situation.

"Hi."

Bella's head snapped up, startled. A delicate limbed, dark skinned girl dropped into the seat across from her,

"I'm Sue."

Bella smiled tightly, extending one hand,

"A pleasure."

Bella shoved a large forkful of the eggs into her mouth, her hunger outweighing her manners. A dry, dull taste assaulted her mouth, clumping and sticking, and she gagged, spitting the entire mouthful into a napkin,

"What the fuck is this?"

Bella looked at Sue incredulously, her eyes wide with horror. Surely they didn't expect people to eat this not-egg mess. Sue giggled,

"Tofu scramble. Not your favourite?"

Bella grimaced, surveying the rest of the food on her plate before looking back to Sue,

"Tofu?"

Sue nodded,

"Yes. Everything is produced locally, organically grown…and vegan."

"Vegan?"

"No animal products. Better for the earth, better for our bodies…"

Sue smiled encouragingly at Bella. Bella tried to force her atrophied features into a smile, but found there was nothing left. She was emotionally drained, exhausted, and starving.

Vegan fucking food?

Were these people crazy?

"Why are you wearing my clothes?"

Bella was still contemplating the vegan food when a new, demandingly shrill voice interrupted her thoughts.

Another girl, almost her size, with waist length blonde hair and flashing eyes had stepped up to the table, her hostility apparent in her expression. Bella sized her up with disinterest,

"Mine aren't exactly…appropriate for this place."

"Shoulda packed better, New York. Now take them off."

Sue held up her hands,

"Angela, come on now. That seems a—"

"Sue, do you know who this is? Isabella Swan. The very same Isabella Swan sent by Volturi Law to _defend _Clearwater Oil. Fuckin' New York over here is planning on getting them a free walk."

Silence fell over the cafeteria as Angela's voice raised, all eyes turning to watch what was taking place with the newcomer. Sue's expression darkened, her eyes clouding as she looked at Bella. Angela also turned her attention back to Bella,

"Take. Them. Off."

Bella sighed. Clearly, the psychotic hippie wasn't going to back down. Looking up, she found Edward-the-bum's crystal green eyes watching her intently, dark with thought. Meeting his gaze, her stomach clenching uncomfortably—whether from hunger or from embarrassment, she couldn't be sure—Bella stood up, peeling the too-small tank top off over her head. She'd never been ashamed of her body, but she suddenly found herself grateful for the extra hours she'd spent at the gym.

"Take them. You think I want to be _here _anymore than you want me here?"

Bella's tone, her derision, was enough to make Angela take a step back. She pulled the pants down, kicking them across the dirty floor to puddle in a heap at Angela's feet.

Wearing only her black lace thong, bare feet, and the matching push-up bra, Bella strode across the floor towards the door.

….

**Well? What did you think? Review, review, review, please!**


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